


beauties and their beasts

by uuaidiREI



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Like that's it, M/M, More of the gang to come, boyfriend fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1399663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uuaidiREI/pseuds/uuaidiREI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himuro gets into the world of modelling so of course, Kise has to take his friend's friend under his wing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. murasaki-bara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the adventures of almost-boyfriends and piercing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a self-indulgent piece of shit so this fic is just things I want to see and that's about it. There is no plot.

Murasakibara lets out a very displeased groan before moving to settle his head on top of his friend’s. It jerks slightly in surprise, slamming uncomfortably into his chin. That sort of hurt.

“Another packet, Atsushi?” Himuro asks gently already reaching into his shoulder bag naturally as if he hadn’t just been taken aback.

“Stop it.”

Himuro tilts up so that he can see his companion’s face and blinks his confusion to the taller teen.

“Like I said, your nervousness is annoying. Stop it.”

Himuro really can’t stop his lips from curving upwards when he sees the childish pout. And just like that he doesn’t feel as anxious as he had been seconds prior. “My bad.”

“Ah but I will take that extra packet too, please.”

The laugh that escapes his lips is good-natured while he pulls out a packet of salted potato chips. Murasakibara’s hands reach out only to circle around Himuro’s waist, his head back on that slightly ticklish mop of hair.

“Feed me.”

“We’re at a bus stop, you know?”

Murasakibara hums to demonstrate his understanding of the situation; Himuro can feel the vibrations against his back.  With a sigh, the older male resigns himself to complying. At least, it was cold enough that there was no one else around.

The bus pulls up some 15 minutes later and the duo are glad to be out of the cold as they make their way down to the nearby mall. Himuro has his head against the broad shoulders of his friend and his thumbs are twiddling as he thinks of needles.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Hmm?”

With a really loud sigh, Murasakibara grabs just one of Himuro’s hands and holds on tightly. “It’s just a piercing, I’ll get one with you if you want.”

He receives a bop on the head for his comment from the raven’s free hand. “Don’t be silly, you know you mother will completely freak. But you’re right. I decided to go with it so I shouldn’t be having second thoughts now. Thanks, Atsushi.”

“I accept payment in umaibo, you know?”

That hand goes from the top of his head to his arms and then there’s a playful pinch that doesn’t hurt at all through the thickness of his jacket.

 

* * *

 

A wide variety of designs sat inside the glass, shining brightly under the illumination of the display light,. There were simple metal balls. Then there were more detailed designs with curves and gemstones. Some even had short chains where a charm hung from. Choosing one proved to be harder than Hiumro had initially expected.

“Wow, there were a lot more designs than I thought.” Himuro muses, staring at this one in a shape of a moustache.

The shop assistant approaches to help but Himuro waves him away politely for the time being.

“Isn’t this just adorable?” He says hovering over the one fashioned after a basketball. “Oh, and doesn’t this one remind you Taiga.”

Naturally, he was gesturing his friend to the one shaped like a ferocious tiger.

“None of those suit you, Muro-chin.” Murasakibara says. Himuro wonders if the unhappiness could have been caused by a Taiga reference. No way, right? “Choose that one, over there.”

Grey eyes travel in the direction indicated. Lying on white cushion was a purple plastic piece that was carved into a simple rose. It took one look and Himuro made up his mind. “Yep, that’s perfect.”

He calls for the shop assistant and after a few exchanges, finds himself in the room around the back. As ordered, he lifts his shirt to let the man draw on some markings. Thereafter, he’s escorted to lie down where the piercing happens.

Himuro has always been sort of apprehensive when it comes to being pricked. It wasn’t that he particularly feared it or anything but it made him extremely uncomfortable all the same.

The man says something about how it won’t hurt right before he pierces a needle right through the pinched flabs of Himuro’s abdomen. The prick makes him wince involuntarily. 

The man continues with his insincere coaxing until he’s successfully looped the ring through his customer. As he shuffles around cleaning up his equipment, he throws piercing care information over his shoulder. Basic things about how he shouldn’t wash it immediately, not to sleep belly down for the first few weeks. Oh, and not to touch it yet.

Since he’s been told not to poke it, Himuro stares at the new piercing against a background of red skin. No matter what he does, he can’t help the feeling of accomplishment from bubbling. 

“Well, I guess that wasn’t so bad…” He sighs, exiting the room.

Murasakibara looks up from the seat he’d taken at the side once he notices the shadow of friend approaching. He chooses to stare expectantly as opposed to rising. Himuro cheeks turn the same colour as his belly by the time he’s lifted his shirt just high enough to show off his new piercing.

“Sweet.” Murasakibara comment, standing to ruffle Himuro’s hair. “Here. This is for you.” 

From his pockets, he pulls out a strawberry flavoured lollipop, almost shoving it into Himuro’s face.

“How long have you had that in there?” He mockingly accuses but grabs the candy anyway. 

“So,” they start walking out of the shop, “are you really going to accept the job thing?”

“If I can survive getting a piercing then I think I can handle a bit of modelling just fine. Besides, maintaining you requires a lot of money, you know?” He jokes, poking Murasakibara in the chest.

“Then, do you want to meet Kise-chin? He’s been doing it since middle school after all.”

“Sure. Besides, I’ve always wanted to meet your middle school buddies after all. They sound like such interesting people whenever you mentioned them.”

“OK. You’ve got an appointment with him tomorrow.”

But before Himuro could ask.

“Sa-chin somehow found out and she told Mine-chin who told Kise-chin and now he wants to meet you.”

Definitely interesting, he supposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alt title: compilation of my shitty headcanons into a fic. So the purple rose thing is a very lame pun. "Bara" means rose so even though it's not the same kanji Murasakibara can be jokingly severely mistranslated into 'violet rose'. I'm apologising really hard. They're not official boyfriends. But they pretty much are boyfriends.


	2. certain rules regarding friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the start of a beautiful friendship

It didn’t matter that their prefectures were about three hours away by train, not when the voice on the other end of the line was so hopelessly enthusiastic and cheerful.

“This Saturday sounds convenient.”

There’s a flurry of excitement that comes rushing from the piece of metal pressed against his ear makes him giggle just a little. Then the line’s cut and an address accompanied by an emoticon is received with a beep. 

The week rolls by in a flash and before he knows it, he’s got his jacket on and his bag packed as he prepares to leave the apartment.

“Atsushi.” He waits for the noncommittal grunt of someone turning forcibly from the TV screen. “I’ll be heading down to a café out of town for a bit now, you need anything?”

“Café?” There’s an interest in his tone, which was to be expected. Murasakibara Atsushi was pretty well known for having a sweet tooth, after all. Himuro shuffles over to show him the map pulled up on his mobile device.

“Oh if it’s this one then please get me a Mango-Pineapple Shortcake.”

With a nod, Himuro tucks the phone into his pocket. “I’ll see you in a few hours then, Atsushi.”

“Ah Muro-chin.” He catches the raven mid-step out of the house. “While you’re there, you should get yourself a Peppermint Deluxe, it suits you more.”

There is no answer but it’s definitely not the cold that dusts Himuro’s cheeks with a fresh sprinkle of pink.

* * *

 

Himuro sits patiently in the corner, occasionally taking sips of his coffee as he waits. The clock ticks away the minutes and he’s glad he decided to bring his iPod after much internal debate. 

The moment’s gone when someone bursts in with enough force to set off the chime in a series of jingles that sound more like clanging. They catch his attention, and honestly, so does the man who’s just walked in. He’s in sunglasses despite the time of day, casually disregarding the weather by sporting a navy blue cardigan together with a pair of white skinny jeans. Coupled with the fact that he was practically bouncing his way over to where Himuro was seated.

Well, he did have bright yellow hair so if Himuro had to guess…

“Yo, you must be Himuro-san. Nice to meet you, I’m Kise Ryouta!”

Yep, just as he had suspected.

“Sorry for being late, the traffic was worse than I expected.” Kise says, easing himself into the seat across Himuro.

“Don’t worry about it. By the way, if I may ask, aren’t you cold?”

Kise offers him a bright smile and then promptly tells him about how nothing could possibly be an obstacle in the name of fashion. He ends his statement with the little hic noise one would make if they were trying conceal their sneeze. “Anyway, you do look good. It’s really no wonder you got scouted. I have to know though, what products do you use?”

Conversations can sometimes be beautiful things. Especially when people have a lot in common and they transition smoothly from on topic to another. Surprisingly, Himuro found he had a lot in common with the blond. They both used the same brand of facial products; they both got scouted whilst out queuing for coffee. Coincidentally, they both had a single piercing and they were both living with a troublesome male. Kise smiles just a little as he proclaims Aomine to be the worst boyfriend ever.

“Now, as your senpai, there are a few things you must know. Number 1, weight watching.” He makes an exasperated face as he soundlessly sighs. “It sucks to say this but calorie count is like really, really important. So what would you like to order?”

Naturally, Himuro blinks. “Didn’t you just say-“

“Well, personally, my favourite rule is the one which states all rules are meant to be broken.” He says, flagging down a waitress with a hand, waving Himuro’s concerns away dismissively.

From the corner of his eye, Himuro sees something flash by so quick he had to triple take and even then he’d barely opened his mouth when something smacks his new friend across the head. More like someone karate chopped, actually.

“Owww.” Kise whines.

“What does your dieting ass think it’s doing in a café?”

The tanned newcomer’s voice is low and intimidating, interacting with Kise like as if he hadn’t yet noticed Himuro’s presence.

“How did you find me, Aominecchi?”

He only raises an eyebrow for an answer.

“Aww come on, let me have this Strawberry Sponge cake. I haven’t had proper dessert in a week.”

“Well I’m the one who has to deal with all your guilty crying later, so no thank you! Now come along.”

Guilty crying, according to Aomine is when Kise looks his worse, second only to that one time he got the flu real bad back in ’08. Even then, he’s still pretty handsome, unfairly enough.

Kise’s pretty much yanked out of his seat and dragged right out the door before Himuro remembers that leaving your mouth hanging open is not polite. The waitress stands awkwardly to his side so he smiles kindly and asks for a Mango-Pineapple Shortcake and a Peppermint Deluxe to go. 

* * *

 

“You’re a big, big meanie.”

Kise’s back on his own two feet and kicking at innocent pebbles on the sidewalk as he lags behind Aomine, their hands intertwined. 

“Yes, yes, I am.” 

“All I had to do was exercise the cake off and the world would regain it’s balance.” Aomine can hear the pout in his voice. 

“Yes, yes, you could.”

“Did you know that having sex burns about 144 calories every half-hour?" 

For the first time, Aomine’s looking Kise properly in the face, his expression speaks of a challenge.

“Just make sure you don’t leave anything around the neck.”

And that would have been pretty sexy, if Kise didn’t break down into a sneezing mess as if on cue. Aomine’s laughter comes in barks and the whole street turns to see this tanned tan wrapping up his companion into a walking burrito of scarves.

* * *

 

_**To: Himurocchi** _

_**Message: Sorry about Aominecchi ( ；´Д｀) I’ll make it up to you. Let’s go shopping! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧** _

They do just that the following week. Himuro comes down right after his first shoot ever, all smiles from the confidence high. Kise launches into a congratulatory mood, asking all the questions curiously as he sifts a couple of similar blue tanks.

Himuro explains that the shoot this time was for a department store’s booklet of Spring fashion. Kise calls dibs on the fifth copy, after the ones reserved for the company, himself, his parents and Murasakibaracchi.

“Atushi?”

“Senpai tip number two: Always give your boyfriend a copy of whatever you’re featured in.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Huh?” Goes Kise, poking his head through an assortment of green cotton.

“Huh?” Goes Himuro, looking up from inspecting a pair of floral prints. Their eyes meet.

“Eh?” They chorus.

The question after that was immediate. “You’re not dating Murasakibaracchi yet?!” 

Somehow, he sounded scandalised. It almost sends an uneasy shiver down Himuro’s spine. “Should we be?” He shoots back.

It took about 0.25 seconds, give or take, for Kise to double over with laughter. “Oh my god, this is gold. (Kuroko later says something about pot calling kettle black.) Now I can help you play matchmaker, it’s like a must-do between all BFFs! Are you like, totes excited or what?”

Kise’s giggly now. His grip on Himuro’s hand is vice and he cannot stop his shaking. Possibilities whirl through his head, Himuro’s soft opting of ‘or what’ does not.

Of course Kise says the first step is dressing to impress, and promptly tugs Himuro through a couple of dozen more racks hunting for something cute in purple. _Always pay attention to your target’s favourite colour._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept to my schedule! Anyhow, this thing's only minimal direction is that it'll work towards those two idiots getting together with the help of another idiot pair. I hope those of you who read on will enjoy. I apologise that they're all short chapters. I write slowly on top of juggling a lot of life responsibilities. Yeah, see you (hopefully) next week too.
> 
> Lovely people go to my ask and offer to tell me modelling things. I'm so happy. I love everyone who read, too.


	3. around and around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two embarrassed people and shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty long footnote.

It’s odd because Himuro had never really considered himself shy, not by a long shot, at least. It’s odd because back in America, he thought he’d left behind the kid who was constantly afraid to speak his mind for fear of rejection. It’s all very odd because even when he came out to his parents or shamelessly chasing down boyfriends, he hadn’t felt half this apprehensive. And this newfound wariness was taxing.

As per Kise’s generous advice, he’d kept a copy for Murasakibara because boyfriend or not, he wants to show the other boy himself in a photo shoot, in trendy, expensive clothes, skin made flawless by makeup. After all, Murasakibara wasn’t completely uninvolved. He remembers waking up the morning before only to find a very small pimple under his chin. Naturally, he semi-panicked since his facial muscles didn’t generally contort into huge displays of expression. But Murasakibara had hugged him and given him a nice warm cup of hot chocolate and it was much more uplifting than Kise’s emoticon-riddled text message had been.

So, yes, he’d like it if Murasakibara would see those shots (three measly shots) of him among a dozen other professional models, looking quite possibly his coolest if he dared say so himself. And of course, he’d really really like it if he would compliment him as well, though that’s a bit of an uncharacteristic stretch. Yet at the end of the day, he doesn’t really know if he’d be too much of an inconvenience for his friend, refraining from presenting the stupid flimsy thing for that reason. It was a strangely annoying topic.

For now, he lies belly down on his bed, half-listening to whatever tune this earpieces were delivering straight to his ears. Under him, he’s painfully aware of the 34-page booklet of glossy paper, which was probably bending, slightly according to his body shape. His mind struggles to come with a way to casually pass the damn thing to his friend. Emphasis on casually. Alas, he could not really think of anything yet.

“Muro-chin?” Murasakibara calls from the doorway. There is a small groan as Himuro lifts his head slightly to acknowledge the giant.

“Yeah, Atsushi?”

“Help me with muffins?”

“Be there in two,” he says, burying his face back into the pillow. Once he no longer hears the footsteps, he rolls over to his side and flings his legs off the bed. Then, he slides the crushed booklet under the bed and leaves to the kitchen where he finds Murasakibara already preheating the oven. It was strange that his purple haired friend would invite him to bake together since despite his general laziness, there were some things he was absolutely about; namely basketball (sometimes) and pastry making. 

Aside from the occasional instruction or curt acknowledgment, Murasakibara keeps very quiet. He largely ignores the presence of the other person in the kitchen with him, despite the inquisitive stares he just knew he was receiving from behind. All he was really focused on was how to utilise his upcoming 20 minutes of guaranteed attention to ask what he wants.

Two days have passed since he heard Himuro received the prints from that day. He wasn’t particularly expecting a copy but he’d thought that at the very least, Himuro would show it to him. Kise was doing it all the time in middle school, bouncing everywhere, shoving images of himself into the team member’s faces, and to say he wasn’t somewhat anticipating Himuro to do the same, albeit less enthusiastically, was a lie. That never happened. He never even came close to telling him more about his time spent at the studio other than the generic, ‘it was fine.’

So he’d make it happen, he decided. On hindsight, maybe it was a little embarrassing but he was going to do it anyway. Even if Himuro was getting very concerned about the state of his health in the background.

Painfully quickly, the batter was mixed, the contents poured into little baking cups, the coating sprinkled over then popped into the oven for baking.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Atsus-“

Now or never, YOLO, carpe diem.

“Your pictures. From the shoot. You haven’t shown them to me yet…”

 Himuro’s eyes widen a fraction seeing the barest trace of a blush forming on his face. It was hard to hard to hide your face when you’re this tall, Murasakibara learns.

“You, want to see?”

Murasakibara looks down to see Himuro actually beaming. He nods, not sure why Himuro’s all smiles suddenly. He’s tugged by the shirt into Himuro’s room, where the guy gets down to pull out something from under the bed. When he comes back up, he’s holding onto a poorly kept booklet.

“Sorry, your copy got a little crushed.”

 _Your copy._ Murasakibara internally repeats.

He tentatively flips the cover open and upon realising there wasn’t exactly a contents page to introduce the models, looked up to stare expectantly at Himuro.

“I’m on 9, 12, and 13.”

Sure enough, Murasakibara finds him on those pages, always sharing the page with someone who didn’t even look half as outstanding as Himuro, in his honest opinion. On the 12th page he sees, Himuro looking a little too happy with the female model by his side, sporting a similarly themed outfit, standing on a platform.

“Oh! During the shot, Kazumi-san,” he points at the girl, “fell off her platform but because she didn’t react, the photographer had a clean shot of us and he thought the clothes mid-fall looked cool. I agree.” He couldn’t help giggling.

“Hnnn. I guess.”

Himuro’s rattling off now, speaking of the people who’d been a great help, recounting all the high moments of that day. Another kid who was supposed to be there was sick all of a sudden and there had been a huge fuss.

“Ah that’s right, Muro-chin are you free this Saturday?”

Himuro stops mid-sentence. “I should be.”

“Let’s visit Kise-chin. He’s got the flu.”

“Is he alright?”

“Though he rarely gets sick, when he does…” Murasakibara pauses, remembers, “he gets it real bad.”

Very shrill sounds draw both their attentions to the fact that they’d left their muffins in the oven for a tad too long and the both of them get up to dash towards the kitchen. Himuro gets his gloves on first, clumsy in his desperation, he accidentally touches the heated metal for a millisecond before retracting it with a sharp intake of air and a, “hot!”

Murasakibara comes from behind, supporting the nearly dropped tray. There was this weird moment of courage that washed over him when he says, “Not as hot as Muro-chin though.”

And Himuro figures he might have a point because, darn, cheeks are on fire right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I died and came back.  
> This was surprisingly difficult to write, I don't think I've ever tried to fit so much fluff in a single series before. I was pretty out of touch so I may have written them out of character, not that I was ever really good at the whole characterisation thing. Personally, I think this is trash that I may take down to fix one day. For now, I just really wanted to write.  
> One thing, they're roommates. May be explained later on, who knows, really? I'm playing by ear.  
> The pick up lines I write though. Self, pls.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading and thanks to those people who leave feedback of any kind. It makes me happy when I know people are reading and liking my crappy fanfic, ya know?  
> Oh and shout out to the lovelies who imparted their modelling knowledge to me that I ended up not using yet because setting, I guess. I still love you for actually interacting with me though.


	4. the great bug of '08

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> that one time kise got sick was a bad time for everybody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have several things to apologise for. In particular, to people who love Kise. Don't kill me. I love the sunshine bae too. Things got out of hand (haha because I use my hands to type). I'll shut up now. Anyway, if the idea of a puking Kise isn't cool with you, I'm sorry.

When Kise woke up that day he noticed two things. Firstly, he was unusually lethargic which was strange since he went to bed earlier than usual last night. Then, there was the fact that his clock was flashing 08:59 in a bright, offensive red.

Classes started at 08:30.

He puts two and two together (sluggishly), gets out of bed (sluggishly), gets dressed with a myriad of sound effects ranging from crashing to knocking over things (sluggishly), and shows up to class 3 hours late. Fashionably late, at the very least. The teacher leers and glares, inviting the _early_ boy up to the front to solve a simple equation. He flips his hair, winks, and gets the question wrong beyond help. The first slip in his usually sunny smile goes unnoticed amongst the laughs. He chalks it up to the hectic morning.

A mere half an hour later, it’s time for recess. All the girls flock over to his table as soon as the bell goes, concerned questions aplenty. Several flashy smiles and flowery assurances later, they went gleefully back to offering Kise their handmade bentos, random chocolate that they came across and loved, asking for signs. The day was typical once again, their idol had just been a little late, that was all.

Haizaki appears before him during lunch, not a nice word falls out of his mouth. He talks of his displeasure with Kise and his style of basketball. Kise doesn’t respond because a sudden wave of nausea takes over him, which he confuses for a general dislike of the rowdy person before him.

After school, Kise makes his way merrily to the gym for basketball club practice. He’s been making fast progress, well that’s a given since it was Kise, but what made him happy was the idea that he was slowly catching up to Aomine. Some whispers were telling him he’d make it to first string soon. It was nice, truly, but it wasn’t surprising news, sports was always something he’d been really good at after all.

The sluggishness comes full force and bites him in the ass as he does warm ups when he launches himself dramatically in the air and the ball simply wilts off the palm of his hand.

Of course, Akashi pulls him aside and asks him if he’s feeling fine.

(“You’re shooting worse than Kuroko.” Kuroko pauses and glares but nobody notices.)

This time, he doesn’t overlook it and chooses to see himself to the nurse’s office. Just as he exits, he hears Akashi asking around if anyone had seen Haizaki anywhere.

He’d made it to the foyer when the awful taste of bile pricks at his throat and he pulls out a pink, lacy handkerchief that some brunette had just given him that morning to cover his mouth with.

As fate would have it, Haizaki slinks out from behind a pillar at that moment. He literally couldn’t believe he had timing that bad that of all the things he could have said, he decides to point out the handkerchief.

“Hah! Where’d you get that girly thing?  Barbie… land?” He throws in a guffaw for dramatic effect.

Hurl greets his face in a spectacular display of half digested heart shaped cookies. Haizaki doesn’t move; he blinks a couple of times.

An obnoxious laugh shakes him back to the situation at hand, where he finds a pleased looking Aomine clutching at his stomach, doubling over in laughter.

“What's the matter, Haizaki? Don’t you like food that is not yours?” Aomine manages to complete his sentence despite his jaws refusing to come close to each other.

Since he’s rather not open his mouth, Haizaki stares until he gets his question across. _What are you doing here?_

“Akashi’s orders. He and Tetsu both thought this fool was probably not going to make it to the infirmary. Oh, and we’re not supposed to let anyone know that our potential first string of a model was seen puking his guts out. So…”

Though previously unnoticed, Midorima and Murasakibara materialise behind Aomine one equipped with a mop, the other a roll of masking tape.

‘Probably danger,’ an unknown sixth sense ringed in Haizaki’s mind.

They get to work immediately. Midorima pulls out cleaning equipment from seemingly nowhere to facilitate his cleaning. Murasakibara grabs onto his target, wrapping him with layer upon layer of tape, before hoisting the rolled up human over his shoulder, towards the gym. Finally, Aomine grabs the motionless Kise, sweeping him into a bridal style carry, making a beeline for the infirmary.

“Aominecchi, one on one…”

“Understand your condition, dumbass.”

The boy is fast asleep by the time they barge through the sliding doors of their destination and the nurse administers as much as she can to a sleeping patient. Aomine loiters around for a bit but then he’s back to the gym because he can just see Akashi’s disapproval of his skipping that was not really skipping but still skipping anyway.

* * *

The next day, everyone learns that Kise is taking the day off to rest. All the girls cry while Momoi spots a frown all day.

“We should see Ki-chan. I heard he has it real bad.” She says, sitting across Aomine at their usual recess table. Aomine grumbles a bit to stay in character. It turns out that every other member of the funky coloured hair basketball players squad (since they were not yet formally known as the Miracles) had the same idea. Seeing as the Kise household was probably not going to be able to accommodate all six of them at once, there was a brilliant suggestion to go in pairs. Akashi and Midorima first, the most diplomatic of the members. Followed by Murasakibara, Kuroko, and Momoi. Momoi because she wanted to be with Kuroko no matter what. Finally, just Aomine. Besides, between Kuroko’s lack of presence and Aomine’s ego, it all added up to pairs anyway, she had reasoned.

So starts their misery. But they didn’t know it yet.

First, Akashi and Midorima step into the house with well wishes and nice hot red bean soup. They step into Kise’s room and the blond looks up at them from the Shakespeare he’d been reading.

“Akashicchi. Midorimacchi.” Kise breaks out into a smile. “Just the people I was looking for! You have such interestingly coloured hair, let’s sing Christmas carols!”

They are swept off their feet and pulled into the room before they can react, Kise has a Christmas album blasting from his iPod despite the blazing heat of the summer outside.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!” He sang. Why was the song in English? A pause.

“Hey! Jingle bells,…” Then he looks at his non-singing companions with the face that looks like he’s been kicked. It was Midorima who caves first but it was Akashi who starts playing the tamboline on his own accord when Kise shoves it into his hand at some point. The three of them sing out that one line of particularly popular Chistmas song for the next hour they’re around. In English. When Akashi and Midorima leave, it is not without secrets. Like how Midorima cannot carry tune in English and Akashi… a lot hangs in the air at that, nothing else needs to be mentioned.

Next, Murasakibara, Kuroko, and Momoi step into the house with some snacks, more snacks, and right, the well wishes. They step into the Kise’s room and the blond looks up at them from the garden care he’d been reading.

“Murasakibaracchi. Momoicchi.” Kise breaks out into a smile. “Just the people I was looking for! Murasakibaracchi is tall and Momoicchi is like a princess, we should do Romeo and Juliet!”

They were similarly dragged into the room before they could even react, and in a similar fashion, had scripts shoved into their hands. “Something’s not quite right…”

Kise nitpicks, demands, and picks and prods until he has the script entirely deconstructed. When he insisted Romeo needed a horse and shortly after judged Murasakibara to be large enough for both roles. When he insisted Juliet needed more conflict, another passionate burning love that burnt as bright as the one she had for Romeo, and decided he found that something in the horse. Also, the horse was christened Joseph.

Kuroko was not standing angrily in a corner. Maybe a little pissed, but he’s above anger, he thinks as he swipes (who was he kidding? He outright took the thing.) a couple of coins from Kise’s dressing table. The second group leave with secrets of their own.

Last to the fray is Aomine who steps into the house with absolutely nothing to show for his concern. He steps into Kise’s room and the blond looks up at him from the Moonlight Sonata score he’d been reading.

“Aominecchi.” Kise breaks out into a smile. “I was getting tired of reading this story, it didn’t make any sense. Come watch this show with me!”

Kise has him seated on the bed and wrapped in blankets and curtains before Aomine can blink. And then the disc goes into the player and crying Asians show up on the screen. Kise is alternating between blowing his nose because he’s crying and blowing his nose because he’s sneezing but he’s blowing through boxes of tissue all the same.

More than once Aomine just about slips off into a nap only to be woken by violent shaking because Kise is mourning over the miscommunication that has the protagonists separated yet heartbroken.

“If only he’d charge his damn phone.” Aomine says.

“If only he’d charge his damn phone.” Kise wails. It sounds magnificently different, their tones.

There was an infinity of sniffing until Kise tires himself from all the emotions. He’s leaning on Aomine now watching the male lead spin the female lead to face him without somehow dislocating her shoulder.

“You think I’ll ever find someone for me like they did?” He speaks like he’s personally friends with the two.

“What’ve you got to worry about? You got a whole lot you can pick from, don’t you?”

“But I know the love those girls have for me isn’t the same love. I mean I love them all too but it’s not that love.”

Aomine doesn’t really know how to respond to that since he’s never been very tactful or romantic. It’s great that he doesn’t have to because for all that shaking he did, the little shit had the guts to fall asleep. He’s borderline irritated with the day and with how poorly Kise must have taken care of himself to have ended up in such a state. And so it was with a whirlpool of emotions that Aomine leans over just enough to plant a small kiss on the other’s forehead.

Aomine leaves the house with a secret too.

* * *

“Murasakibaracchi. Himurocchi.” Kise says as he stumbles over to the duo, abandoning the instruction manual for the washing machine. Murasakibara tenses which makes Himuro uneasy himself.

“You know what we should do?” Kise starts as if he’s not really sure of what he wants himself. He looks at Himuro and then probably remembers something about America, more specially the image of a street area in America, because he brightens up even more.

“Break dancing!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had this idea stewing since I mentioned it once early. I mean, I thought I had a semi proper sequence of events but it seems every time that happens, I run head first into a writer's block. I might edit this in time but it's been months and if anybody had any expectations, I am so sorry. Also, I need to apologise for all errors with the characterisation and things. It has been awhile since I worked with them.


End file.
